


The Crossdressing Verse

by fictionalaspect



Series: Not-quite-fics [3]
Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Angst, Crossdressing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/fictionalaspect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jon knew," Brendon says softly, and Spencer whips his head around to stare at Brendon. "What?" Spencer says dumbly, because what the fuck, <i>Jon knew, </i>Spencer wants to know why the fuck Jon Walker is apparently allowed to know all of Brendon's secrets and he isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Crossdressing Verse

**Author's Note:**

> This is some kind of weird combination of not!fic and real fic, and it's never going to be finished so I'm posting it as is. It's also the most self-indulgent and melodramatic thing in the _entire world_ , so be aware of that before you read. Hurt/comfort! Angst! Crossdressing! Random POV switching! I don't even know. This is what happens when sunsetmog and I really get going. Most of this is in the form of emails I sent her, so any complaints/praise should be directed her way, as she was the one who kept going OKAY BUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.

One time I decided to poke at the idea of what my 'ultimate' bandom story would be—like, the most self-indulgent thing I could possibly think of, containing all of my favorite tropes and kinks and characterizations. It turned out that what my brain came up with was an epic story of brendon having a crossdressing thing, and it was the story of his interactions with his bandmates at different times and in different ways. It starts when he sort of gets into it with ryan, originally, when they're still bbs, and ryan at this point is super into androgyny and they're hooking up mostly just to hook up, and they have a fairly tension-filled relationship but it also includes a lot of exploratory stuff, like ryan doing brendon's makeup and then them having sex like that, and Brendon _really_ likes it, but it soon becomes clear that for Ryan it's more of a passing interest and for Brendon it...kind of isn't.

They stop hooking up when they go out to Maryland, and neither of them are very broken up about it because it wasn't a relationship to begin with, just casual sex and teenage infatuation, but Brendon really misses it and starts exploring more of it on his own, without telling anyone. It sort of becomes a weird coping mechanism for him—he's young, and he's been thrown into this crazy situation and all of a sudden they're FAMOUS and sometimes he needs to just do something for himself and at first that 'thing' is sort of drugs and alcohol but once he moves out of that phase it turns more into a self-caring/self-love kind of thing. It's what makes him happy, and what makes him feel good about being Brendon, and he's pretty much decided he's never going to talk to anyone about it but he figures as long as no one else knows he's not hurting anyone. Like, it's fucked up, and he knows it, but oh well.

So Brent leaves, and Jon joins the band, and somehow Jon finds out, accidentally, and Brendon is fucking _mortified_. He goes in the bathroom and throws up as soon as Jon leaves. He tries to put on a brave face but every time he sees Jon he sort of just wants to cry, and it's like there's this huge ball of fear inside his chest all the time, because he knows that Jon knows and they're not talking about it and Brendon doesn't want to talk about it, honestly, but just the fact that Jon knows is kind of too much for him to handle. And eventually, they end up talking about it, and Jon kind of tells him that he doesn't get it but that's okay, and he doesn't think Brendon is a freak, and he's not going to tell anyone, and they end up having a strange sort of non-sexual relationship where occasionally Jon will buy Brendon presents, and they don't talk about it but it's...okay. It's almost a relief that someone knows, even if they literally have exactly one conversation about it in the two-or-so years that Jon's in the band. Jon always covers for him, the few times that it seems like someone's going to find out, and when they're rooming together Jon will drop his stuff off, give Brendon a casual salute, and then disappear for hours at a time. At first Brendon's too weirded out to even do anything, he just ends up sitting there watching TV in his old hoodie until Jon comes back, but eventually he stops caring so much and just takes advantage of the time he has to himself, because it's kind of nice. Jon's trying. It's pretty much the best way the situation could have shaken out, and Brendon knows it.

So when the split happens, it's sort of even more devastating for Brendon, because on top of all of the band stuff, he's losing the one person who knows about his weird secret kink and thinks it's okay. Spencer's never found out, and Brendon wants to keep it that way. He packs up everything in a bag when they move in together, absolutely everything, and then he mails it all to a PO Box he's rented in San Francisco and tries not to think about it too much. He's already lost pretty much everything, and there's nothing that's worth losing Spencer.

Except he cracks, obviously, when they're halfway through attempting to make the new record. He's stressed as fuck and everything in his entire life is pretty uncertain, they aren't speaking to Jon or Ryan, he's trying to make an album but all they have are 30+ discarded demos on his computer, and he ends up driving up to San Fran and picking up the bag and then leaving it in his trunk until he's absolutely sure that Spencer's going to be gone for a few days visiting family. And once he's alone it's like this huge surge of _relief—_ not even really a sexual thing, although of course that's part of it, and he loves it and he jerks off a LOT, and and he wishes desperately he could take some pictures but that's way too dangerous and he knows it. But mostly he just feels better, more grounded, less like he's grasping at straws. He's not into full drag, or anything, it's just that having the ability to dress himself the way he wants to and shave his legs and wander around the house in something pretty makes him feel more like the Brendon he's supposed to be, and he ends up spending most of the time he's not jerking off that weekend frantically writing lyrics. It unlocks something in him, and it's good.

And then a few days afterwards this happens, I think, although I doubt I would actually use this scene because it's in the wrong pov, but the point is that Brendon's feeling so _good_ about everything that he gets a little careless and assumes that Spencer, as exhausted as he is from visiting family, won't be wandering in through the laundry room between the hours of 2am and 6am -

 _The whole Brendon thing had been an accident in every sense of the word._

 _Not a bad accident, but still. Spencer had been pretty content with the way things were, living with Brendon and working with him at the studio and going grocery shopping together, and then one night Bogart managed to shut himself in the laundry-room-slash-storage-room somehow and Spencer forced the door open half-way only to see a neat collection of women's panties spread out on the hanging rack to dry._

 _Spencer stared at them for a moment, as though he might be able to will this situation into making sense. Bogart barked at his kneecaps until Spencer blinked and picked up the folding deck chairs that Bogart had managed to knock over. As soon as the pathway was clear, Bogart shot out between his legs, leaving Spencer to stare in confusion._

 _It wasn't even the panties that were tripping him up, although that was definitely—-unusual. It was that only Brendon and Spencer lived here, and Spencer was very familiar with Brendon's underwear choices. He knew exactly what brand and size Brendon wore, for fuck's sake (American Apparal, Men's small, bright colors only), and in all of the years that Spencer had been nonconsentually familiarized with Brendon's underwear options, they had never included panties._

 _This was completely out of left field. Somewhere along the line, Spencer had to have missed a memo about Brendon having a secret girlfriend (unlikely), multiple secret girlfriends who were also strippers (even more unlikely), or a fetish for saving sex trophies and then carefully cleaning them (so creepy that Spencer didn't actually want to contemplate it). There was no other viable explanation, unless—Spencer found himself walking towards the dryer on autopilot. He took a deep breath, and then opened it and started pawing through Brendon's laundry. He didn't know what he was trying to prove, except he had a vague idea in the back of his mind that if he found some of Brendon's usual underwear, he could write the whole thing off as some sort of weird-sex-thing-gone-wrong. Maybe Brendon liked to take home girls who wore seven pairs of panties at once. He didn't know Brendon's life._

 _Spencer pulled out two t-shirts and his favorite pair of board shorts ("Dammit, Brendon") before catching a glimpse of tiny red American Apparel briefs with white piping. He pulled them out, letting out a relieved breath, and as he did so a pair of thin cotton panties dropped to the floor._

 _Spencer swallowed, and picked them up._

 _They were all black, trimmed with thin bands of stretchy lace. Spencer rubbed his fingers along the material and decided that despite his first impression, they weren't actually cotton—the material felt too soft and silky under his fingertips. They were cut like boy's underwear, but with a feminine edge—lower in the waist, higher around the curve of the hip. Spencer thought about what Brendon might look like in them, and then he thought again about how nothing in his life was making any sense, and then Brendon stumbled into the room rubbing his eyes and frowning sleepily._

 _"Wher's Bogart," Brendon mumbled, yawning loudly as he leaned up against the wall and blinked at Spencer in the harsh light of the flourescent bulbs. "Heard him barking. What're you doin?"_

 _"Nothing," Spencer said, curling the underwear into his palm before he could think better of it._

So then Spencer _knows,_ which Brendon realizes as soon as he wakes up a little more, but by the time he's remembered that everything is on the hanging rack, Spencer's already upstairs and Brendon's all alone, sitting on the floor of the laundry room, staring at everything with a sick feeling in his stomach and trying not to throw up.

So Brendon does the only thing he can do in this situation, which is very quietly sneak back upstairs, pack a weekend bag, and leave.

He gets a flight to somewhere in Mexico on standby, texts Spencer and lies through his teeth and tells him he has a family emergency, and then turns his phone off for three days and gets very, very drunk, but not before calling Zack and telling him that he'll pay for everything for the next week or so if he flies down that day to keep Brendon company. Brendon is planning on going on a very intense bender, but he's not actually _stupid._ He changes the subject every time Zack tries to bring it up, refuses to answer his phone, and has some random, entirely heteronormative sex with at least two different girls at the resort and at the end of it he doesn't feel any better and his body is screaming at him in protest and Zack's still watching him with that careful look that means he knows that something is really, really wrong with Brendon.

And that is as far as I've gotten in my head, but rest assured it ends with Spencer and Brendon falling into a relationship.

—

Accordingly, I think when Brendon finally comes back from his vacation with Zack in tow, Spencer yells at him and freaks out and Brendon apologizes for lying (by this point Spencer has figured out that obviously there was not a family emergency) and everything is totally okay on the surface, except neither of them has even so much as tried to mention the real reason for Brendon leaving. I'm not even sure Spencer UNDERSTANDS the real reason for Brendon leaving at this point. But I want it to be this big, unspoken thing between them, and for Brendon to be pretending as hard as he can that it never happened, and for Spencer to be worried and confused and also pretty curious, because he sort of can't stop thinking about it.

 **—**

I think while Brendon was away, Spencer maybe freaked out just a little bit and searched the house, because he remembers way back to when Brendon was sort of developing a minor amphetamine/coke problem when they were like 18 and this whole random burst of bizarre behavior from Brendon maybe trips a few of those wires in Spencer's head. I think he's probably just as worried about Brendon leaving _him_ as Brendon is about Spencer abandoning him, but I don't think he'd show it as readily. So he searches the house, and of course he only finds their secret joint stash of weed, and the only other weird thing he comes up with is an empty cardboard box addressed from "B.U.", return address of their condo, to Brendon Urie, at a PO Box number he's never heard of and didn't know existed. So now Spencer's kind of more freaked out, because as far as he can tell Brendon hid something from him in a PO Box and then went and picked it up and then went to Mexico, which isn't exactly a comforting chain of events. The only reason he DOESN'T just hop on a plane and hightail it down to wherever the fuck Brendon is, is that he knows that Zack is down there keeping an eye on him and he trusts Zack to make sure Brendon doesn't end up as a Behind the Music special. But, like. _Still._

Shit is fucking weird.

And when Brendon comes home, the box is forgotten in the mess of Spencer yelling because he's scared, and Brendon groveling, and then getting pissed off and yelling back, and then Spencer groveling because he doesn't want Brendon to think he's actually mad at him, he was just _so fucking worried_ that he kind of doesn't know how to react. And Spencer means to bring up the box, he does, but it never happens and then it's never the right time and he ends up just keeping it in his closet for a while until everything slowly, slowly returns to normal. And then a month or so later he finds it again, when he's looking for something else, and he decides there's no time like the present so he grabs it and sets it down on the kitchen table and Brendon goes pale over his coffee and Spencer sits down and really, really gently asks Brendon to tell him what was in the box.

Brendon starts laughing, humorlessly, more of a grimace than a smile. He wants to throw up, but he's been putting this off for so long that he's starting to get exhausted inside from holding everything so tightly to his chest. He makes a snap decision to tell Spencer exactly enough to push him away from the subject, but not so much that Spencer will actually _know_ and be freaked out.

"Fine," Brendon says, his voice flat. "If you really want to know, I'll—God, I can't believe you saved that fucking _box_. I can't fucking believe you, sometimes."

"You left," Spencer says carefully. "You left. You lied to me. I was freaked out. It was the only thing I couldn't explain."

"Yeah, well," Brendon says dully. "The feeling's mutual."

"So tell me," Spencer says. His stomach feels strange. He's a little nauseous. He thinks maybe, maybe he should have just burned the damn thing. Maybe he doesn't want to know. "Tell me and then we'll both be a little less confused, B."

"It's—" Brendon starts out, and then he drops his eyes and puts his fork down and starts picking at his cuticles, avoiding eye contact.

"Drugs?" Spencer fills in, because as dumb and dangerous as it is to mail yourself a box full of illegal shit, it's kind of the only viable explanation he can think of.

Brendon snorts.

"No," Brendon says. "Why the fuck would I mail myself a box of drugs? I'm not Ryan."

"I know," Spencer says. "I was kind of wondering that myself."

"I'm not actually stupid," Brendon says, giving Spencer the ghost of a smile. He looks back down at his plate, and then he nods a little, like he's psyching himself up.

"Look," Brendon says, raising his head so he can look straight at Spencer. "I didn't want you to know, okay? Just remember that you pushed, here. You're the one pushing, and it's all on you if you don't like it."

"Brendon," Spencer whispers. His throat is dry.

"I'm just saying," Brendon says, shaking his head. "Anyway. Trust me, you don't want the details. It's all—it's." He coughs. "Basically kinky sex shit," Brendon mutters, flushing a painful-looking red. "Okay? That's what was in the box. And that's all you need to know. It's—I'm kind of fucked up, and some of it is weird, but I promise it's not hurting anyone."

"Oh," Spencer says.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "So."

"Right," Spencer says. His brain is a mess of static. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even know how he feels, right now, except that something just clicked and all he can think about is the feeling of smooth black silk in his palm, of the tiny scrap of fabric and lace that is still hidden somewhere in the depths of his sock drawer.

—

So anyway, Spencer just sort of ends up staring into space for a little while, and Brendon gets up and rinses his plate off and goes to leave, and then Spencer kind of stands up and looks at Brendon and then very firmly takes the box out to the trash and throws it away. And Brendon's like "....?" and Spencer just looks at him and he's like "Look, it doesn't matter. Whatever it is, it's okay. Thanks." And Brendon's like "...thanks?" And Spencer's just kind of shrugs and says "Thanks for telling me," and Brendon kind of nods at him and then he goes to hide out in his room for a while and Spencer lets him.

So they don't talk about it. From then on Brendon basically just acts like his entire week in Mexico never happened, and Spencer lets him, because he doesn't know what else to do. He's itching to call Zack and bug him for details but he doesn't want to ruin Brendon's trust, so he just ends up lost in his own head a lot, trying to figure everything out, except none of it really makes sense because he never evensuspected, Brendon was always super careful, so Spencer is quite literally blindsided by the whole thing. And also he's intensely, insanely curious. The more he thinks about it the more he wants to know, and the more he wants to sit Brendon down and make him _talk to him_ , because it's obvious that this is some huge secret that he's been hiding and part of Spencer is pissed as fuck that Brendon seemed to think Spencer was going to like, abandon him or something, but mostly he just can't get over the idea that there's this whole other side of Brendon he's been totally unaware of. Brendon's his best friend in the entire world. Spencer's used to knowing everything about him, or at least thinking that he did, but apparently he doesn't know anything at all.

So he waits until he's absolutely sure that Brendon's going to to be out for the night, and then he very carefully lines up two beers on his desk and opens up the internet and decides to figure out everything about how Brendon works, because apparently Brendon's not going to tell him shit. He wants to figure out a way to be like, supportive, but he can't do that if Brendon won't talk to him and he doesn't want to piss Brendon off by saying the wrong thing so he figures that the internet is his best option. Except he sort of gets lost in a haze of wikipedia articles, and by the time Brendon comes home Spencer is kind of drunk and reading raptly about historical crossdressing practices in 16th century India, and he doesn't even realize that Brendon's standing next to him until Brendon's clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Um," Spencer says.

"What the actual fuck are you doing?" Brendon says evenly, and Spencer tries to listen and see if Brendon's even tone is just covering up anger or fear but mostly Brendon just sounds kind of amused.

"I was," Spencer says, and then he doesn't say anything else. Brendon stares at him for a long time, and then he sighs and sits down on the bed.

"You don't have to do this," Brendon says, waving a hand at Spencer's laptop. "It's okay. It's—I mean, I appreciate it and shit, but you don't have to try and understand."

"Do what?" Spencer says, fumbling for his half-full beer and missing slightly. No one can prove a thing. He hopes Brendon doesn't realize that he's actually like, a six-pack deep right now. He'd sort of gotten distracted while reading and just kept cracking open a new one.

"Jon knew," Brendon says softly, and Spencer whips his head around to stare at Brendon. "What?" Spencer says dumbly, because what the fuck, _Jon knew,_ Spencer wants to know why the fuck Jon Walker is apparently allowed to know all of Brendon's secrets and he isn't.

"He found out by accident," Brendon says, jiggling his leg and refusing to look at Spencer. "And I think he did the same thing you're doing, and it was nice of him, I mean, I appreciate it, but it's okay. You're not going to get it. It's weird, right? I know it's fucking weird. You don't have to try to understand."

"It's not weird," Spencer croaks out, because it's safer than saying _no, actually, I kind of think it's really fucking hot._

"Yeah, it is," Brendon says. "Don't fuck with me, okay? Don't—you don't have to be the supportive friend. I'm telling you right now, this is going to be a lot less messy if you'd just follow my fucking example and pretend it never happened—"

"Do you wear them all the time?" Spencer blurts out, and Brendon cuts off mid-rant.

"What?" Brendon says. There's a slightly hysterical edge to his voice that definitely wasn't there a minute ago.

"Shit," Spencer says, scrubbing a hand over his face. He's too drunk for this. He's going to say something awful. He needs to stop talking. "Forget I said that, okay? You're right. If that's what you want, we can just—"

"No," Brendon says. His eyes are large and scared behind his glasses. "I don't."

"I'm sorry," Spencer says. "Don't listen to me. I'm drunk."

"Are you?" Brendon says

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Drunker than I meant to be. Too drunk for us to be talking about this."

"Okay," Brendon says. He's flushed, red smeared across the top of his cheekbones, and when he opens his mouth his voice comes out in a whisper. "So if I catch up to you," Brendon says quietly, "And we agree to pretend this never happened when we wake up tomorrow, you want to talk about it?"

"Yes," Spencer says, and then winces, because wow, that sounded way too eager. "Wait," Spencer says. He frowns. "You just said—"

"No one's ever asked me that," Brendon says quietly. "No one's ever wanted to—I don't know. I mean, we're talking about a grand total of two people, here, but they always just acted like—" Brendon swallows. "Like it was weird, but okay," Brendon says, his leg jiggling harder. "But you just sounded like. Like you actually wanted to know."

"Right," Spencer says. "Okay."

"Do you?" Brendon says, biting his lip and squinting at Spencer.

Spencer takes a deep breath. "Yeah," Spencer says, not looking away. Brendon looks scared, but also sort of desperate, and even if this makes things worse in the long run, Spencer's not going to deny Brendon anything when he looks like that. "I do. Let's get drunk and you can tell me about it."

 **—**

So Brendon gets up and leaves, and then he comes back with a bottle of tequila and some shot glasses and proceeds to get very carefully and deliberately drunk. At first it's a little weird, because Spencer isn't partaking as he's already pretty much there, but then Spencer puts a dumb movie on and it becomes a little more normal between them, the two of them just shooting the shit and hanging out like always.

And then the movie ends, and there's this long awkward, silence between them and Spencer's about to say that it doesn't matter, they don't have to talk about it, he's not going to force Brendon into it if he doesn't want to talk and then Brendon sort of just starts rambling, talking about Ryan and makeup and Spencer just kind of...listens. He has an immediate, knee-jerk reaction of furious anger when he realizes that Ryan knows too, like, what the fuck, does _everyone_ in the world know about Brendon but him? but as Brendon keeps talking it kind of becomes clear that no, Ryan didn't really know about it. And the thing about Brendon and Ryan isn't a surprise to Spencer, he'd gotten wind of it when they were in high school, but aside from a few weird conversations with Ryan he'd never really gotten involved because he had enough shit to worry about without trying to run Brendon and Ryan's love lives and respective sexuality crises.

So Brendon talks, and Spencer listens, but he also notices that Brendon is very carefully talking _around_ the subject; he's telling the story of How Some People Found Out, and not the story of Why Brendon Likes It. So he lets Brendon finish up, after he talks about Jon for a while, and then Spencer takes a deep breath and says, "Okay, but why do you like it?"

And Brendon sort of squirms a little, and he's blushing again, and Spencer has a moment of realizing how much he _likes_ the way that blush looks on Brendon, which is weird, and then Brendon kind of shrugs and just says, "I don't know. I just. I like the way I feel. The way it makes me feel."

"So it's a..." Spencer trails off, trying to find the words. "A sensation thing?" is what he comes up with, and Brendon makes the international sign for "kind of," waving his palm around.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "I mean. That part's good. But it's not all about that."

"Okay," Spencer says.

"Yeah," Brendon says, awkwardly, and that ends up being the last thing they say about it, because Brendon's phone rings and then all of a sudden it's awkward again and they just end up getting hammered and going downstairs to play xbox. But Brendon seems to be in a decent mood, and he's not freaking out and running away to Mexico, so Spencer figures that maybe he did something right.

—

It becomes a thing that happens, sometimes. On the weekends Brendon will take the bottle of tequila down from the top of the refrigerator, sometimes, and he'll pour out two shots and hand one to Spencer and they'll get pretty drunk and it's standard operating procedure except that on these Tequila Nights, as Spencer starts to think of them, Brendon will usually get really quiet at some points and every once in a while he'll share something, or Spencer will forget they're not talking about it and ask a question, and Brendon will actually think about it and then answer him. They only talk about it in this very abstract sort of way, and they never talk about sex, or Brendon getting off on it, or any of the other thousand questions that Spencer wants to ask, because Brendon's obviously making probably the first sincere attempt to figure this out in his entire life and Spencer is going to be motherfucking supportive of this even if it kills him.

Which it might.

Spencer also very carefully doesn't think about how his browser history has taken a sudden and decided turn towards androgynous porn, and guys in makeup and panties getting fucked, and even some really hard-core kinky stuff where the dom made the guy crawl around on the floor and smacked his ass and told him he was pretty and lots of other stuff that Spencer is pretty sure he would never have considered had he not accidentally stumbled into Brendon's secret kinky crossdressing habit.

He's pretending that video never happened, because he was a little drunk at the time and came really embarrassingly quickly and then basically just lied there watching the rest of it and by the time the fifteen minute video was over he'd had to jerk off _again_ and Spencer's pretty sure that hasn't happened since he was seventeen. He also thinks he might have maybe, just maybe, closed his eyes and imagined _Brendon_ doing that, Brendon all pretty and mussed up in his panties on Spencer's floor, but the thought makes him feel weird and desperate inside so he shoves it really far down into his psyche and continues to act like his and Brendon's male bonding therapy time is totally innocent. Because it is. Spencer can do supportive and innocent. He totally can.

And Spencer does a good job of it, too, and he can actually SEE a change in Brendon lately, which is a huge fucking relief—Brendon's not so tense and jittery as he was, he's more relaxed, he smiles more and laughs more and it's just. It's all worth it, and Spencer is completely fine having this weird sexuality fantasy crisis in his head if it means that Brendon's going to feel a little more comfortable with himself, and then Brendon leans down one night to pick up the bottle of tequila off the floor and Spencer sees a line of pale, pale blue lace peeking out from the waistband of Brendon's sweatpants. And all Spencer can think is that Brendon is doing it _right now_ , he's wearing them, and he wants to know what Brendon looks like and he wants to feel how soft they are under his hands and he wants to rub them across Brendon's dick and watch the way Brendon gets all pink and squirms under his hands while he does it, and—

—Spencer immediately stands up, makes up some excuse about his stomach, runs off to the bathroom and just ends up pressing his face against the cold glass of the mirror and trying desperately not to touch himself. It's like every barrier he's carefully set up in his head has suddenly come crashing down, and Spencer just wants absolutely everything he's seen on the internet in the past two months, and he wants it with _Brendon_ , and so he sits on the floor and has a minor life crisis for a while until he feels like his world has stopped spinning.

 **—**

So Spencer has a minor little crisis, right, because not only has he figured out this big important weird thing about himself, he's also realized that it involves Brendon. He actually wants to have sex with his best friend, not just in an idle fantasy way but in the way where if this were a perfect world and he wasn't freaking the fuck out so much, he'd march out of the bathroom and jump Brendon, and considering that Brendon is now the sole remaining member of Spencer's band there are like. There are problems with this. It is a problem.

So Spencer's freaked, and trying to think about anything else, and trying to figure out a way to go back out there and face Brendon without giving Brendon any hint of what he's feeling, and then he hears a knock on the door and before he can rush over and be like S'COOL, I'M FINE, DON'T COME IN, Brendon cracks the door open and he just gives Spencer this look, this tiny, sad little thing, and they stare at each other for a moment and neither of them can think of anything to say. And then Brendon sort of walks in and curls up in the corner of their bathroom, hands around his knees, looking very small and scared in his giant baggy sweatpants and star wars t-shirt.

They sit there for a while.

"I won't do it again," Brendon whispers, after ten minutes have passed. "Sorry." His voice is all cracked and shaky, like he's been crying, but his face is dry.

"Do what?" Spencer says.

Brendon shrugs, looking anywhere but Spencer. "Sorry," he says again. "I just. I thought—I thought maybe it was okay, you know, I didn't think you'd find out, I just—"

"It's okay," Spencer says, swallowing hard. "Brendon. It's okay, we're okay, that's not why I freaked out a little, I swear—"

"Spencer," Brendon says, his mouth twisting. "Shut the fuck up, of course it was. Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Spencer says desperately.

"You _are,_ " Brendon says, his tone a little angrier now, and when he gets up and turns to leave Spencer acts on instinct, standing up and grabbing for Brendon's arm. Brendon shakes Spencer's hand off, his entire body tense, like he's ready for a fight.

"I'm not," Spencer says helplessly, and then Brendon's shoving him backwards and Spencer does the only thing he can do, which is hold on tighter. Brendon makes a frustrated noise and Spencer doesn't let go and somehow they end up with Spencer shoved up against the wall, Brendon pressing him in. They're all tangled up in each other, and they're not exactly fighting but Brendon's grip on Spencer's bicep also isnt what Spencer would call friendly.

"Let it go," Brendon says, low and dangerous. He doesn't seem embarrassed anymore. He seems _pissed_. "Fucking drop it, okay, Spence? We tried. We tried it out, and you did a good job pretending and it was good while it lasted but I'm not going to sit around and listen to you tell me it's okay and then watch you spazz out when you actually have to look it in the face," Brendon says, all in a rush. Spencer can't breathe. Brendon's body is tight and angry in his arms and Spencer's hand is somehow on Brendon's hip, curled around the slight jut of bone, and if he pushes his hand down he'd be able to slip his fingers in between the loose cotton fabric of Brendon's sweatpants and his panties. Brendon's _panties._

"Don't fucking do this to me," Brendon says again, his voice starting to sound desperate around the edges. Spencer makes a soft whining noise, helpless, and then he leans in and presses his mouth to Brendon's. Brendon freezes, panting into Spencer's mouth, and Spencer has a moment of sheer, stomach dropping terror while Brendon just _stands there,_ unmoving, and then he's digging his hands into Spencer's hair and kissing him back and it's like this giant, extra-strength Brendon tornado or something, kisses like freight trains, and Spencer knows he's a little drunk and his brain is rambling but he's also never been kissed like this before.

—

I just like thinking about how fucking devastated Brendon would be, you know? He's gone and tried to talk to Spencer about it and he's comfortable enough that maybe this is the one time he wears them around anyone anymore, on these nights, because Spencer is now the one person he TRUSTS not to do exactly what Spencer just did, which is catch a glimpse of them and FREAK OUT. Brendon would be so, so devastated, which is I think why he's so pissed off and so hurt at the same time. I mean, them kissing right now doesn't mean all is well in Brendon and Spencer land - more angst is on the horizon, I think—but I'm also pretty sure that Spencer at this point is incapable of doing anything else. They're drunk and he doesn't have any impulse control and Brendon is pressed up against him and he's wearing panties and Spencer _knows it_ and like—it's stupid, Spencer's stupid, he shouldn't have done it and Brendon hasn't show any HINT of attraction to him other than their normal friendship but I'm not sure Spencer could help himself. He'd do it anyway.

—

So then shit is awkward. More awkward. Awkward times a thousand, because neither of them know how to respond. Brendon had stumbled away, after, wiping at his mouth and looking confused and upset and turned on in equal measure, and Spencer just ended up sitting there for a while, after Brendon had left. He'd sat there and tried to consider how badly he'd possibly just fucked up his life and his band and his relationship with his best friend (also bandmate and also roommate and shit, could he have picked a worse person?) and then he'd given up and taken a shower and jerked off very, very quietly, feeling guilty the whole time.

He doesn't see Brendon until he gets to the studio that day—he hears Brendon's car pulling out of the driveway as he wakes up, which answers _that_ question—and when he gets there Brendon is polite and quiet and absolutely professional with him. It's the worst thing Spencer's ever experienced. Professional is bad. Professional and polite means break-ups and not talking and Spencer's been here before and this is so, _so_ fucking bad but maybe it will be better tomorrow. Maybe Brendon just needs some space.

—

It goes on for a week.

Brendon is nice to him. He's nice and he's still polite and they record almost two entire songs and Spencer spends the entire week on the verge of freaking the fuck out. He knows their producer can tell that something's wrong. Everyone in the studio knows that something's wrong. Brendon won't make eye contact and he goes off and disappears at lunch and Spencer eats with everyone else and no one brings it up but it's this huge elephant in the room. This what-is-going-on-with-you-guys elephant.

It takes everything he has just to get through the week, and then he leaves while Brendon's still tracking vocals and he goes home and sticks a note on Brendon's door that just says "Dinner, tomorrow, 7pm, mexican," and then he leaves and ends up going over to Shane and Regan's for a while, because he can't be in the house and he needs something to take his mind off of what he's going to say tomorrow now. His big plan is just to apologize and tell Brendon he's sorry and that it will never happen again, and if that doesn't work—he doesn't know. If that doesn't work then maybe Brendon can just be Panic! at the Disco. Even just the idea of it scares the shit out of him but he's not doing this twice in one year. He can't. If this is how it's going to be Spencer's going to make a clean break of it, and run the fuck away with his head held high, because the truth of the matter is that Brendon can make this record himself, if he has to. Spencer doesn't like to think about it that way, knows without a shadow of a doubt that that they'll make a better record _together_ , but if Brendon's going to shut him out and pretend this is just a convenient working relationship then Spencer is just—he can't. He's done. He's grasping at straws. He doesn't know what to do. He has a feeling he's overreacting but he's already lost Ryan and Jon and Brendon is sort of the last person he has left and he's fucked it all up and Spencer just—yeah. He goes to Regan and Shane's and plays with Bogart for a while. It's the only thing he can do.

—

"I'm just going to lay this out," Spencer says quietly, sitting next to Brendon at the bar. The Mexican place is full. They have their beers and it's going to be another half an hour. Spencer doesn't care anymore. He's tired of this bullshit. He keeps veering wildly from fear to anger and back to fear. He hates it when Brendon shuts him out. He's done waiting.

"Spence, do we really have to—" Brendon says tiredly, rubbing at his eyes, and Spencer cuts him off. "No," Spencer says. "No, fuck you, just—stop fucking running away, okay? I shouldn't have done that. I know you don't—I shouldn't have done that. I was drunk and you were there and—" he snaps his mouth shut when Brendon's expression gets even cooler, realizing how much what he said just sounds like "and you were convenient." Shit.

"That's now how I meant it," Spencer says, starting over. God, this is so not the place for this conversation. At least the bar is loud. "I meant you were there, and I wanted to kiss you, so I did. And I was drunk, so I actually did it instead of just thinking about it." Spencer looks away, over towards the beach. "And I get that I weirded you out and make you uncomfortable and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad, or upset, or—anything. I was freaking out because I wanted to kiss you," Spencer says, which isn't a total lie. "I wasn't freaking out because of. Because of the other thing."

"Okay," Brendon says quietly. He's still not making eye contact.

"God, will you just fucking talk to me?" Spencer says, giving up all pretense at being polite. Fear is running thick and overwhelming through his stomach, into his veins. "Brendon, you can't just shut me out for a week and expect me to be okay with it. I fucked up. I'm sorry. I'm saying that I'm sorry right here, right now. I'll never do it again if that's what you want. But you can't just avoid me for a week and expect me to just lie down and take it," Spencer says, slamming his beer down on the counter. "You have to stop _running away._ "

He looks over at Brendon.

Brendon swallows. He doesn't look away but there's something wet about his gaze, something that suggests that maybe he's crying. Or not crying, not really, Brendon's not going to cry in public and he's certainly not going to cry at a broken-down Mexican bar at the beach but.

But he made Brendon cry. Fuck.

"You know what," Spencer says, feeling the fear in his stomach settle into something heavy and dull. "I just—shit," Spencer whispers. "Okay." He stands up, digging his car keys out of his pocket.

"Where are you going?" Brendon says. Spencer shakes his head. He needs to leave. He needs to leave, now.

"If you send me the papers I'll sign them," Spencer says, instead. Brendon grabs his arm, his fingers digging in.

"What papers," Brendon says, his eyes going wide. "What papers, Spence, what are you talking about?"

"You can have the name," Spencer says, looking away. He feels unsteady on his feet, like he's going to pass out.

Brendon punches him in the face.

"What the fuck?" Spencer yelps, clutching his jaw. Everything is suddenly happening very fast. Like the bartender rushing over and the doorman rushing over and Brendon holding up his hands and apologizing and Spencer doesn't really understand what's going on until all of a sudden they're outside, on the sidewalk, and he's got his head between his knees and Brendon is very carefully rubbing his shoulder.

"You punched me in the face," Spencer says dully. He doesn't look up at Brendon. His jaw kind of hurts. Brendon's right hook has apparently gotten a lot more solid since they were eighteen.

"Sorry," Brendon says.

"I can't believe you just punched me in the face," Spencer says again, finally pulling together the courage to lift his head and look at Brendon. "Why?"

"Because you were being a goddamn idiot," Brendon says. "We're not breaking up the fucking band. You didn't even give me a chance to say sorry about this week. You just did that thing you always do, where you decide what's happening and what's going to happen and how everyone is going to react beforehand."

"But you weren't talking to me," Spencer says quietly. "I'm not a mind-reader."

"And I'm kind of an asshole," Brendon says. "But we're not breaking up the band, okay?"

"Okay," Spencer says. He still feels lightheaded.

"I didn't mean to run away," Brendon says, squinting out in the distance. "Or like. Mentally run away. You know what I mean."

"Okay," Spencer says again.

"It's just, like," Brendon says. "You kissed me."

"I'm sorry," Spencer says again, automatically.

"Don't be," Brendon says quietly. Then, "You know when you want something and don't want to deal with the fact that you want it? So you just pretend it isn't happening. You just ignore it and you tell yourself it doesn't matter and you do it over and over again so much that you start to believe the lie?"

"Yeah," Spencer says. He closes his eyes, looking back down at the pavement.

"And then something happens and the lie gets torn to shreds," Brendon says. "I have all these stories, Spencer. Stories in my head about how it's okay, that I'm okay as long as no one finds out. As long as no one can get in there and see what I am and what I do." He takes a deep breath. "About how I'm not half in love with someone I can't have and how he wouldn't want me anyway and about how it's never going to happen."

"Brendon," Spencer says. He reaches over and tugs Brendon's hand away from his mouth, where Brendon is ripping at his cuticles with single-minded fascination. There's a little bit of blood on his thumb, and Spencer smoothes it away. He thinks about it for a moment, and then he curls his fingers into Brendon's.

"I am so fucking scared right now," Brendon says, letting out a weird, high-pitched laugh. "So fucking terrified, Spence."

"Me too," Spencer says.

"Okay," Brendon says. He squeezes Spencer's hand back, the tiniest press. "Okay."

—

So they end up kind of falling into this relationship, or this sort-of-relationship, or...something. It's all very up in the air. They don't tell anyone and they don't really change the way they interact but now there's something more there, something exciting and strange and different between them. They take it really slow and they keep working together and it's all pretty normal except for how now they're like..flirting. Brendon is flirting with him. And it's sort of sweet, and low-key, and it's so different from how Spencer's watched Brendon act with other people that at first it sort of throws him for a loop, but Spencer likes it. He likes that they're not trying to force something and he doesn't think he could do this any faster than it's happening, anyway. There's so much stuff between them, so much history that they can't take it lightly. It's a big fucking deal, and Spencer finds it weirdly comforting that Brendon's treating it like it's just as much of a big deal as he is.

And they go on like this—sometimes holding hands, sometimes kisses on the cheek, nothing big, nothing overt—until Spencer finally makes the connection between the contents of Brendon's laundry (he tries not to look, it's not his business, but sometimes he can't _help_ it) and Brendon's outfits and he sees the edge of a pair of panties peeking out over the tops of Brendon's jeans one day and he realizes that now Brendon _is_ wearing them all the time.

While he flirts with Spencer.

And of course they're in the studio when he finally notices, so he can't DO anything about it. His mouth goes dry and he catches Brendon's eye and then lets his gaze drift down to Brendon's jeans, and Brendon looks confused for a moment before he gets it, before he tugs his shirt down and his jeans up and mouths _thanks_ at Spencer from across the room. But now Spencer _knows_ , and now Brendon's throwing him these little curious, hesitant glances for the rest of the day, like he's waiting to see how Spencer's going to react. Spencer puts it out of his mind and concentrates on business and focuses like a motherfucking rockstar and then when they're standing next to Brendon's car he gives up and picks Brendon up and sets him down on the hood and kisses him. Brendon is laughing into his mouth, legs tucked around Spencer's back, and Spencer goes for broke and just kisses Brendon the way he wants to, the way he's been dying to kiss him ever since that night two months ago, and he tries to keep his hands away from Brendon's waist but it's a lost cause. He runs his fingers over the tops of the panties and Brendon arches up and makes a surprised noise into his mouth. Spencer kisses him harder, pulling him in, and then everything is a lot less tentative and a lot more "it's time to go home and get naked now." Brendon's flushed down to his chest when Spencer finally forces himself to pull away, and Spencer doesn't think it's just from the late-afternoon California sunshine.

"Um," Brendon says. He bites his lip.

"Gonna say this once," Spencer mumbles, pressing his lips to Brendon's pulse point. Brendon tips his head back, letting out a gasp. "S'not weird. S'fucking hot. We should go home so you can show me."

"Okay," Brendon says breathlessly. "Okay, good idea."

And then they go home and make out a lot and idk, there is crossdressing porn. Brendon's still kind of gunshy about it but Spencer just _loves_ it, and he makes sure that Brendon knows that it's not just that he has a kink for it, which he does, but that he loves the whole package (hurrr). And then there is porn. Lots and lots of porn and Brendon finally getting to dress up for someone and sometimes he shaves his legs and sometimes he gets to wear stockings and heels and skirts and eventually they get to the point where they can troll each other about it. Brendon buys a sexy nurse costume for Halloween and all of their friends are intensely amused and think Brendon is awesome for being willing to dress up like that and rock it but Spencer mostly just can't stop staring at Brendon's ass because he knows that Brendon is actually, totally wearing little panties and garters underneath that skirt and that when they get home he gets to take them off Brendon. Stuff like that. And sometimes it's not about sex, sometimes it's just about what Brendon wants to wear and Spencer's totally cool about that, too, even though it's pretty much always distracting for him. He can keep it in his pants when he needs to, though. He is a gentleman and a scholar.

And then I had this whole idea of how it shades into d/s, which is really interesting to think about. Like, they're having sex now, they're exploring, and at some point it comes up that Spencer finds that stuff really hot, and Brendon is like "huh," because it both sort of instantly makes sense to him why that stuff would be super hot, but he's never considered it in the context of himself before. I think Brendon probably kept all of his sex stuff that wasn't "normal" in this little box in his head, and once he's opened that box he starts making all of these connections. Maybe he catches Spencer watching spanking porn one time and he's sort of like "lol spanking" but also "....spanking? >.>" and so they try it out and it's pretty damn hot and Brendon really likes it but he also tells Spencer he thinks he'd maybe like it more if he was dressed up >.> I think it takes a lot of courage for him to say that, but he manages it, and then Spencer is like !!!!! because that's pretty much the actual content of his fantasy life but he's not going to push that on Brendon if Brendon's not into it. And then idk. Use your imagination. There are lots and lots and LOTS of ways that could play out.

—

You mean the first time they play after they've talked about it and negotiated everything? Uh, maybe Spencer goes out for a while, and Brendon spends a few hours getting progressively more turned on as he gets himself ready, and he's nervous and he's excited and it's just this huge jumble of feelings, and, you know, not just in his pants. He goes all out, wears stockings, heels, does his makeup. And then Spencer comes home, and goes and sits down on Brendon's bed and waits like Brendon asked him to, and I think by this point Brendon's almost freaked out enough to consider not coming out of the bathroom, but he does, and the first time Spencer sees him his mouth actualfax falls open and it's all very hot and apparently I am not awake enough to write porn yet so give me a moment to continue drinking this tea.

—

( LOOK I'M JUST SAYING THERE IS SPANKING. In my head. Like, I think they've probably agreed that a little impact stuff is okay, and maybe some scratching, they're not going to do anything crazy with the d/s stuff but I think Brendon wants to be spanked badly enough and Spencer kind of wants to be able to do it that they both agree that it's fine, if that happens, it happens. I just want Spencer laying Brendon out on the bed and like, rubbing his face and his beard over Brendon's stomach and dick, and it's kind of weird but it's also super hot, and I want him sucking on Brendon's underwear while Brendon squirms helplessly and then I want him making Brendon flip over and then putting Brendon's panties down just a little bit, so that they're trapping his thighs, and he's still wearing his little slip that ends just above his ass, so he's all tangled up and he's exposed in just this one area and Spencer puts him over his knee and spanks him a lot and tells him him pretty he looks and Brendon loves it.)

(btw I am going to hell and you are coming with me y/y?)

Ahaahah and now I am going to stop talking. CROSSDRESSING! MELODRAMA! BRENDON'S INNER PAIN! HURT/COMFORT! SPANKING! This has been your self-indulgent dispatch for the day /o\ /o\ /o\


End file.
